Someday
by celtic-flicka
Summary: Hermione and Ron's struggles weren't over after the battle was won. Most chapters will be T, but a few will definitely be M...
1. Chapter 1

In the aftermath, they didn't talk about The Kiss. There were funerals to plan and attend – _gods_ , there were so many funerals. Hermione stood strong and steadfast between Ron and Ginny as they said goodbye to their brother. She held Harry up at the services for Professor Lupin and Tonks. At all the other funerals, she offered condolences on behalf of her friends who couldn't bear to come themselves.

 _They're so sorry they couldn't be here._

 _Of course, dear, we understand. Give them our best._

She attended a service almost every day – sometimes two – and in between, she returned to the Burrow where she helped cook and clean, and held her friends as they grieved. Late at night when she was so physically exhausted and emotionally drained that she couldn't sleep, Hermione's thoughts drifted to that moment in the midst of war, when the power of the moment took over and they'd finally let their feelings show. Remembering the sensation of Ron's lips on hers helped soothe her anxious mind and remind her that life might be "normal" again… someday.

* * *

After dinner on Bill's last night before returning to Fleur, the remaining Weasley siblings decided to go out to the pub. Although they were invited to come along, Hermione and Harry decided to stay back and let the brothers and sister be alone together.

Molly and Arthur retired early, and Hermione used the quiet time to spread her Australian maps and books out on the table in the living room.

"No word yet from the Ministry?" Harry said softly as he came up behind her. He leaned his forearms on the back of the couch and peered over her shoulder.

"Nothing certain, but the Australian office has some good leads, so it could be any day now. I want to be ready." She sighed. "It's going to be hard to leave though."

Harry was quiet for a moment. "He'll be back to normal someday soon, don't worry."

Hermione looked at him but quickly tried to control her facial expression.

"I saw you two holding hands after the battle," Harry said with a smirk. "Even with everything that was happening, I still noticed _that_."

"It was just one kiss, but it was… um…" Her face got warm. "Powerful."

Harry cleared his throat. "I don't need to know _exactly_ what happened, but it's about time. I couldn't take the longing gazes anymore."

"Sorry," she giggled. It felt good to laugh.

"It'll get better," he said, "and then you lot can get this all sorted and live happily ever after. Until then, I'm going to sleep." He patted her shoulder and headed to the stairs.

"G'night."

Hermione pored over her papers until late into the night – it wasn't doing much good at this point, but it made her feel like she was doing something productive – when the front door creaked open and Ron tiptoed in.

"Hi," she whispered.

Ron flailed and fell against the door, slamming it loudly. "'Mione! You startled me!"

"Shh…" she said. "Your parents and Harry are asleep."

"Oh, right." He swayed on his feet. "Whatcha doing?" He staggered toward her and collapsed on the couch next to her. The smell of firewhiskey was almost overwhelming but the pink in his pale cheeks made her smile.

"Getting ready to go get my parents."

"Aw, you're not leaving, are ya?" he slurred. "I don't want ya to leave."

"Not yet – I'll let you know when it's time."

Ron rested his head on her shoulder, his soft, ginger hair brushing her neck. "I'm gonna miss you, 'Mione."

"I'll miss you too." She reached up and patted his cheek. "I won't be gone more than a few weeks."

"'S too long."

She looked down and his face was just inches from hers. His eyes darted toward her lips, and Hermione seized the moment. Her hand slid from his cheek to the back of his neck and she pulled him into a kiss. His response was immediate, shifting his position to push her back on the couch and climb on top of her.

The kisses were wet and sloppy but she didn't care. Feeling the warmth and weight of his body on hers was just what Hermione needed. It was easy to ignore the taste of firewhiskey on his tongue when she felt his hair clutched in her fingers. She sighed when he moved his lips to her neck.

Ron began fumbling with the buttons on her blouse and she moved his hand away, interlocking his fingers with hers. But a few minutes later, those fingers were clumsily working at the button on her jeans.

"No, Ron, not here," she whispered. "Not like this."

"'S'okay, 'Mione," he said, "Don't you want this too?"

"I do, but not here," she said, pushing him back. He sat up and blinked hard. "Your family could come tumbling through that door any minute."

"Oh. Yeah." His face brightened as he got another idea. "Let's go upstairs!"

"There's more family upstairs," she reminded him, smiling a little at his pouty reaction. "This isn't a good time. Or place. And you're kinda drunk."

"I guess so."

"Come on, I'll get you to bed." He looked up at her in surprise. " _To go to sleep_." His face fell again.

Hermione gathered her books and maps and stood, giving him a hand to pull him to his feet. She led him to the stairs and pushed him up ahead of her, casting a quick _Muffliato_ at his feet clomping on the wood floor. They stopped at his and Harry's room.

"Good night," she whispered, giving him a quick kiss. He reached his arms around her waist and kissed her harder, until a noise from down the hall made them jump apart. "We can talk tomorrow."

* * *

The next morning, she and Harry were up for hours before any of the pub-goers. Bill slunk down the stairs first, with his travel bag in hand. Eventually, Charlie, Ginny, Percy, and George came down to wash down hangover potion with strong tea. Each time one of them tottered down to slouch into a kitchen chair, Hermione's eyes flew up to see if it was Ron coming. Finally, shortly after noon, she heard his heavy footsteps.

"It awakes!" George cried, clearly starting to feel the effects of the potion.

"Not so loud," Ron mumbled.

Harry cackled but got up to get two cups for his friend. Ron took the potion cup and guzzled the contents, handing it back to Harry with one hand while taking the teacup in the other. Harry returned to the table, and Ginny, while Ron braced himself against the kitchen counter. Seeing that everyone else was occupied, Hermione joined him in the kitchen.

"So, um, once the potion kicks in and you feel a little better, maybe we can talk about what happened last night?"

"Last night? Oh bloody hell, what did I do?"

"You don't remember?"

Ron rubbed his forehead. "I don't remember _anything_ after Percy started buying firewhiskey shots."

Percy looked up at the sound of his name and then rested his head on the table again.

"Nothing?" she asked.

"Shit, what did I do?" Ron asked quietly. "Be honest, 'Mione. How stupid was it? Who do I have to apologize to?"

Hermione took a deep breath and tried to smile. "No one. Don't worry, it was nothing. We'll talk about it someday when you're not drunk or hungover."


	2. Chapter 2

That night, the group (minus Bill) decided to go out again. "Hair of the dragon," Charlie said. This time, Hermione and Harry decided to go along.

Not surprisingly, a lot of the conversation was about Fred – mostly the Weasley children telling stories about his antics. Some of the tales made Hermione laugh so hard, her belly hurt. But then the firewhiskey shots came out. They toasted their fallen brother again and again, although Hermione begged off after the second time. Two shots were enough to make her vision start to blur, so she nursed a butterbeer for the rest of the night.

After a few hours, the alcohol was making her sleepy, so she announced that she was going back to the Burrow. The guys were still going strong, but Ginny joined her.

When they arrived back at the Weasley home, the girls were surprised to see that the lights were still on. They opened the door and Molly Weasley came flying at them, waving a piece of parchment.

"You're home! I was just about to apparate to the pub to fetch you." Molly thrust the parchment toward Hermione. "An owl arrived from Kingsley!"

With shaking fingers, Hermione rolled the page out flat. She gasped.

"What is it, dear?" Arthur asked.

"They've found my parents," Hermione said hoarsely. Ginny grasped her arm. "They're okay. A healer removed the spell I cast and they're waiting for me."

Ginny read over her shoulder. "Minister Shacklebolt already made all the arrangements! With those portkeys and floos, you can be in Sydney in less than an hour!"

Hermione's trembling hand covered her mouth and her eyes filled with tears.

"Dear Merlin, that's wonderful!" Molly exclaimed, throwing her arms around Hermione. "Oh, we needed some good news around here!"

"I-I… I have to go," Hermione said. "It's still morning in Sydney. If I go now…"

"Go, get your things," Arthur said. "I'll send a message back to Kingsley and let him know."

"Let's go – I'll help," Ginny said, linking her arm through Hermione's and leading her upstairs.

In Ginny's room, Hermione rifled through her clothes, tossing shirts, sweaters, and other pieces to Ginny, who stuffed them in the beaded bag.

"I hope they're back before I have to leave," Hermione said.

"Hmm?" Ginny said. "Sorry, I'm still a little buzzed."

"Ron – a-and Harry," Hermione said. "I hope they're home soon so I can say goodbye."

Ginny shrugged. "If they're not, they'll understand. You have to do this. You won't be gone that long. And you can send owls."

"That's true." Maybe writing would be a better way to communicate anyway.

"So do we have everything?" Ginny asked, holding up the bag. Hermione peeked inside.

"You pack like your brother," Hermione said with a wry grin.

"Do you want tidy, or do you want fast? Let's go!" Ginny pushed Hermione ahead of her out the bedroom door.

Downstairs, Molly hugged Hermione again and made her promise to write and let them know how everything was going. Arthur tried to give her some pocket money before she reminded him that she'd need Muggle money where she was going, so instead he asked her to bring back some Aussie dollars for his Muggle artifacts collection.

She glanced out through the kitchen window one last time, but saw no sign of anyone returning home.

"I guess I'm ready to go then," she said.

"Good luck, Hermione dear!" Molly squealed. It was so nice to see her smile again.

"I'm so happy for you!" Ginny clapped.

Hermione took out her wand. "See you soon." And with a pop, she apparated to Kingsley's first portkey.

* * *

The trip to Sydney was quick but exhausting. Traveling via floo and portkey for nearly 60 minutes made her head spin more than the two shots of firewhiskey had. Plus, it was about 1 am, according to her body clock. But when she clambered out of the last floo and looked up at the "Ministry of Magic: Australian Division" sign, she felt a surge of excitement. She dusted herself off and smoothed her hair down in anticipation of seeing her parents.

"Is that her?" she heard someone whisper behind her. She spun around and saw that many of the witches and wizards in the lobby were looking at her.

"That _is_ her!" Another voice said. She looked behind her again. "She's really here!"

The staring made Hermione uncomfortable so she strode to the information desk as quickly as she could without attracting more attention.

"Ms. Granger!" the ruddy-faced clerk crowed. "We're so honored to have you visit us!"

"I'm here to see Minister Moru?" she replied.

"Of course, of course," the cheery older man said. "Anything for you, miss."

Hermione glanced over her shoulder at the crowd, which was growing larger, as the clerk came out from around the desk. "Come with me, please. Happy to help."

She followed him to the lift and got in, waiting until the door closed. Her hand was under her cloak, holding her wand.

"What's going on here? How do you know my name? And what was with all the staring?" she demanded.

He laughed. "Oh, you're just as I imagined. Lovely on the outside and fierce on the inside!"

She tightened her grip on her wand. "Answer me."

"Sorry, miss, didn't mean to upset you. We're all just chuffed that you're here. One of the Golden Trio!"

"Excuse me?"

"You and your friends. You defeated He Who – Lord Voldemort. Everyone in the wizarding world knows about you three. Haven't you heard?"

Hermione pulled her hand out of her cloak and smoothed her hair back again. "No, I suppose not. We haven't really been out…"

"Oh, of course, I should have realized." The clerk's smile faded. "So sorry for all of your losses. A lot of good wizards went down that day."

Hermione nodded firmly, afraid her voice would crack if she spoke.

"We're just glad to have been able to ease your burden by helping you find your mum and dad. Everyone at the Ministry knew you'd be here today."

"Oh." Hermione's head felt like it was spinning again. The lift jolted to a stop and the clerk held the door open for her.

When they arrived at Minister Moru's office, Hermione stood outside the door, not sure what she would say when she saw her parents. But she didn't have to worry about that, after her mum flung the door open and both of them enveloped her in a hug so tight she could barely breathe.

After the emotional reunion, Minister Moru explained how they'd been able to track the Grangers down using the information Hermione had given them about the spell. He had planned to let Hermione tell her parents the whole story, but they'd had so many questions that he'd given them _some_ of the answers. (Her parents weren't happy about not knowing how much danger she'd been in, but they'd talk about that later.) He also described how his staff were prepared to help the Grangers sell their Sydney home and return to London as soon as they wished. Hermione liked how the elderly Minister's kind demeanor contrasted with his Maori warrior tattoos. She suspected that he was pretty fierce in his younger days as well.

That night, she included all of those details in the letter she wrote to Ron.

 _…And did you know that we're sort of famous? Everyone here knows about what happened at Hogwarts. It's strange, but they're all so nice. Well, I need to sleep – I've been awake for almost 36 hours! I'll see you soon._

She gave it to the owl that Minister Moru lent her and sent him on his way.

Within a week, the Grangers were ready to return home. The house hadn't been sold yet, but their friends in the Ministry assured them that it would be taken care of shortly.

 _…We're flying home on an airplane. It's going to take a lot longer than magic travel, but don't worry. It's safer than you think. If you've written me in Sydney, hopefully I'll get it before we leave tomorrow. If not, you can write me at my parents' address at home._

It took so long even for magic owls to fly between London and Sydney, any letters from him may not have arrived yet. Although she did get one from Molly already…


	3. Chapter 3

After arriving back home, Hermione threw herself into putting her parents' house back in order. It wouldn't make up for what she'd done to their memories, but she hoped that it would at least help a little. She spent her days calling to reconnect the phones, heat, and electricity, grocery shopping, and cleaning. Her father tried to get her to rest, but keeping busy made her feel better. About everything.

When she finally sat down to write another letter, she addressed it to Harry and Ginny as well as Ron. She kept it light, but ended with a none-too-subtle reminder that she was back in the UK.

 _…Owl deliveries will be so much quicker now! And we won't have to worry about whether our owls even arrive._

The following day, Errol crashed into her closed bedroom window with a letter from Ginny. It was a detailed account of the family's daily activities – Charlie had returned to Romania, Percy was leading a cleanup team for the Ministry, and George was making plans to reopen the shop. Nothing about her youngest brother. Harry had scrawled a quick note at the bottom.

 _Of course we miss you loads but stay as long your mum and dad need you. ~H_

Hermione immediately jotted off a note asking the three of them to meet her for lunch in Hogsmeade and gave it to Errol to bring back.

* * *

Only Ginny and Harry were at the table when Hermione walked into the Three Broomsticks. She threw her arms around them both as Ginny muttered excuses for why Ron wasn't there.

"He's been really busy… and he didn't sleep well last night…"

Hermione tried to put him out of her mind and focus on the two friends who _had_ shown up. She was thrilled to learn that Ginny planned to return to Hogwarts for the new school year. Hermione and the others who would have graduated the previous year were given the chance to take their NEWTs at the beginning of new year and, if they passed, receive their diploma.

Hermione knew she could pass – she probably could have passed the NEWTs around year five – but she found school so comforting that she wanted to go back and finish properly. When Harry told her that Neville would be returning too, as well as Luna since she was in Ginny's year anyway, that cemented her decision.

"Oh, I'm so glad that we'll all get to have a graduation together," she said, but the sideways glance between Harry and Ginny told her that wouldn't happen.

"The Aurors have already asked me to join them," Harry explained. "So I'm taking the NEWTs and then I'll go straight into training."

"And Ron?"

"He… he hasn't made any decisions yet," Harry replied.

"He's got time," Ginny added.

Harry nodded along, but when Ginny left the table to use the loo, his face grew serious.

"Ron's a mess, Hermione," he said, keeping his voice low. "He's not dealing with this well."

"Fred?"

"Fred, and everything else too. He goes out every night and comes back really late, then sleeps half the day away and repeats it all again. At first, I thought he was just keeping George company but George is staying in most nights now. He won't listen to us. Or his parents. Ginny says he'll be fine. But he's not."

Across the room, they saw Ginny returning.

"See if you can talk to him," Harry whispered.

* * *

She knew Ron wouldn't reply to owls, that much was clear. So instead, she made a plan to catch up with him at the pub near the Burrow, where he was likely to be the following night.

When she stepped through the doors at the Skipping Frog, the party was already well underway and Ron seemed to be leading the celebration. He was in the center of the room, surrounded by people she didn't recognize, so she tried to blend into the crowd and watch for a few minutes.

"So Voldemort 'ad this giant snake, see?" he was saying. The crowd hung on his every word. "An' 'e was comin' after us. An' the walls're fallin' down around us."

A young woman with long, black hair gazed up at him adoringly.

"So I gave 'im a blast with my wand, and _boom —_ " He spread his arms wide. "— the snake explodes in a cloud of black smoke." The crowd cheered, and someone pressed a drink into his hand. Ron's other arm came down around the shoulders of the black-haired girl, who curled into his side.

Hermione pushed her way through Ron's fans and stomped in front of him.

" _You_ didn't do that, Ronald Weasley!" she shouted over the din.

"Ay, Hermione!" he said when he swallowed the gulp he'd taken from his pint glass.

"You didn't kill the snake!" she yelled even louder. "Neville did, with the Sword of Godric Gryffindor! And you _know_ that! We'd both be _dead_ now if it weren't for Neville!"

"Hey everyone, this is Hermione Granger!" Ron shouted to the pub patrons, raising his glass. "She was there too! One of the heroes of the Battle at Hogwarts!"

The crowd cheered again and someone pushed a drink toward her. She waved it away.

Hermione leaned in closer so she wouldn't have to yell.

"Ron, you were already a hero on your own. You don't have to take anyone else's heroics to make yourself look better."

"Folks just want a good story, tha's all," he said. "Hey, have you met Nyla?"

"Nyarra," the black-haired girl corrected him.

"Pleasure," Hermione replied with a squint. "Ron, why don't you come back to the Burrow with me so we can talk."

He shrugged. "Nah, I don' wanna go back there. Too depressing. I'll go home when ev'ryone else is asleep."

"Ron, please."

"Hey, who wants to hear about how we destroyed the locket horcrux?" he hollered to the crowd, who roared in response.

Hermione spun on her heel and made for the door. Before she left, she turned around one last time, only to see him snogging Nyarra/Nyla/whatever her name was. She blinked back tears and took a deep breath to keep them from falling, and walked out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione Granger wasn't going to cry anymore. She'd already cried enough for more than one lifetime. And she certainly wasn't going to cry over a past crush. So she did what she knew how to do best. She studied.

Her seventh-year books were still on the shelf in her bedroom where she'd left them more than a year earlier, although with scorch marks on the bindings from the Death Eaters' visit to their empty home. Her parents had found similar burns in other parts of the house, which helped them accept why Hermione had needed to send them away.

She'd already read all the seventh-year texts, during sixth year, but it had been more than twelve months since then, so a refresher seemed like a good idea. Studying helped her sleep – most nights, she'd read in bed until she dozed off so she wouldn't have to lie alone in the quiet.

She still met up with her Hogwarts friends once in a while, and when she wrote to Ginny and Harry, she addressed the letters to Ron too. He wasn't likely to respond, but she did it just in case. But that's all the effort Hermione was able to put forth.

The weekend before school was to begin, Neville had a party. His gran went out for the evening and told him to have fun – Neville's role in the Battle of Hogwarts made her a minor celebrity with her witches' knitting group and forced her to see him in a new light.

"She was just lookin' out for me, that's all," he said as he handed Luna and Hermione their drinks. Neville's sweetness still remained even after his stint as a battalion leader.

Hermione was delighted to see not only Luna and Neville, but so many other old friends there – Seamus, Dean, Hannah, Lee… although she was sure they all felt the absence of those who couldn't be there. Seeing Cho Chang reminded Hermione of the first student to fall to Voldemort, and it was hard to watch George flirting with Angelina Johnson without his usual wingman. He seemed to be doing all right though. She didn't ask Ginny or George about Ron, but it was clear to her that he wasn't coming.

She shook off her residual sadness and made her way to Cho because she _had_ to hear about how her advanced studies in Charms were coming along.

The hours passed quickly and the tension melted away as the friends got caught up on what they'd all been doing since the Battle. Hermione hadn't had so much fun in… gods, she couldn't even remember when. It was nearing midnight when the front door burst open, and Ron stumbled through with a blonde woman under his arm.

"Hey, ev'ryone!" he yelled. A few people waved in his general direction. He swayed and Hermione realized that the blonde wasn't quite embracing him, but rather holding him up – and his normally bright blue eyes were bloodshot.

Ron and his date made their way into the kitchen and Hermione followed.

"C'mon, Neville, pass a guy a pint," Ron wheedled.

"I don't think you should –" Neville stammered. "I mean, you've already –"

Harry, Ginny, and George were all watching the scene, but not doing anything. Hermione, however, had had enough.

"What Neville's too nice to say, _Ronald_ , is that you're already drunk so maybe you should have something else."

"Great, here comes Hermione to ruin everyone's good time."

"Me? We were having a great time until you staggered in with What's-Her-Name."

"Hey," the blonde slurred. "I have a name."

"Oh? What is it, Ron?" Hermione asked. "What's her name?"

Ron paused for too long. The blonde flung his arm off her shoulder and stormed back through the hallway and out the door.

"Thanks a lot, buzzkill."

Hermione scoffed. "She'll be fine. She doesn't care about you! Why can't you listen to the people who _do_ care about what happens to you?"

Harry stepped forward and touched her arm. "Hermione…"

"No, Harry, he needs to hear this. You're all treating him with kid gloves and it's _not helping_!" She swung her arm away from Harry. "Ron, you're better than this."

"You don't know," he sniffed and wiped his sleeve across his face. "You don't understand."

"Understand what?" Everyone at the party was now listening to them but Hermione didn't care. "That you barely remember what it's like to sleep because of the screaming nightmares every time you close your eyes? That you're afraid to let yourself cry because if you start, you might never stop?"

He blinked hard and looked away.

"Look at me! Do you think you're the only one suffering? The only one who's damaged?" She shoved up her left sleeve and held her forearm in front of his face. Despite the painful weekly treatments at St. Mungo's, the word "MUDBLOOD" still showed faintly on her skin. Her throat was hoarse and she lowered her voice. "We're _all_ damaged, Ron. Everyone here. We all fought. We all have scars."

She pushed her sleeve back down and took him by the shoulders. "But we survived. And we're all doing what we can to keep surviving. Except you – you're letting it all go waste. Everything we did." He looked up from the floor and into her eyes. "If you want to honor the ones who didn't make it, if you want to remember your brother, then you need to stop getting shitfaced every night and _live your life_."

He stared at her for a moment and took a step back. The room was silent.

"Fuck off, Hermione." Ron backed away toward the door, crashing into the doorframe on the way, and stormed out of the house.

"Are you –" Harry began, breaking the silence.

"I'm fine." Hermione took a long, shuddering breath.

"Um, maybe you were a little too hard on him?" Ginny said as the party picked back up again, albeit more quietly than before. "If you –"

"No, she wasn't," George said, tearing himself away from Angelina. "Someone should have said that sooner."

"George, you can't blame yourself," Hermione said.

"It's supposed to be my job to tell him when he's acting like an arse," George replied. "I have to take the piss out of him for two now."

"I'm going to go home, I think." Hermione's friends protested gently. "No, I'm tired. I'll see most of you next week at school." She took a step back from the group and apparated back home.

Hermione _was_ tired, so very tired. But she still had to pick up her seventh-year Potions book and begin reading it for the fourth time before she could fall asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

The start of school was less of a distraction than Hermione had hoped. Between her pre-studying and her hard-earned real-life experience, the classes were even easier for her than they'd been before. She'd asked Professor McGonagall for an independent study project, so when she was summoned to the Headmaster's office, she assumed that was why.

When she entered, she saw Professor McGonagall with Kingsley Shacklebolt and a handsome young man in Ministry robes who looked a little familiar. He was nearly as tall as Kingsley, and around Hermione's age.

"Minist – I mean, _Kingsley_. It's lovely to see you," she said.

"You as well, Hermione," Shacklebolt replied. "How are your parents?"

"Oh, they're doing wonderfully – I'm sorry I didn't get to thank you in person for everything you did!" Hermione said.

He held up a hand. "No, the three owls you sent were quite enough. I'm pleased we were able to help. I trust your school year is getting off to a good start?"

"As always, Miss Granger is one of our top students," Professor McGonagall said.

"Just _one of_ them? Sounds like you're slacking off."

Hermione was about to protest when Kingsley's deep baritone laugh let her know he was teasing her. She blushed.

"Since it seems that you could use another challenge, I'd like to introduce you to my nephew, Brighton."

"Miss," the boy said, reaching to shake her hand.

"Oh! You graduated a couple of years ago," Hermione remembered as she offered her hand in return. "Ravenclaw, right?"

"That's me," Brighton said with a charming smile. "I'm flattered that you remember."

"I didn't at first. You're were… less tall then," she stammered in response.

"Young Mr. Shacklebolt is here because he's part of the Ministry program to train magical educators," Professor McGonagall explained. "He's going to shadow me and a few of the classroom professors as part of his internship."

"You're going to be a teacher!" Hermione exclaimed. "How wonderful that you get to come back to Hogwarts."

"I'm very lucky," Brighton said. "There was a lot of competition for this spot."

"I'm sure," Hermione said, with a smile in Professor McGonagall's direction.

"Since Brighton would probably rather socialize with wizards and witches closer to his age, we thought it would be a good idea to introduce you two. You have a lot in common, I think," Kingsley said.

"Um, OK, well, I'm still in the Gryffindor Tower if you need to reach me," Hermione said. She suddenly felt ridiculous wearing the school uniform at age nineteen. "Outside of class, I'm usually there or in the library."

"I'll keep an eye out then," Brighton said shyly.

* * *

It was only a few hours later that she ran into him again. Hermione went to the library to find a centuries-old potions book that was referenced in a paper she'd just read. As she walked through the stacks, she saw Brighton looking up, holding a long piece of parchment that dangled down to his knees. He used his wand to slide a heavy text off a high shelf, but when it came out from between the other books, the covers flew open and loud singing emanated from the pages. Brighton dropped his wand and his scroll as he scrambled to grab the book and slam it closed. Hermione giggled.

"Oh, hi," he said sheepishly. He was wearing a t-shirt and jeans, unlike the formal Ministry robes he wore when she met him.

Hermione bent to pick up his wand and scroll while he struggled for control of the singing book. "Here, let me get these."

"Thanks." He shoved the book under his arm and put his wand in his back pocket. In the Headmaster's office, his eyes had looked dark brown, but with the setting sun shining through the library window, they looked more golden brown.

"You've got quite a reading list here," Hermione said, glancing at the parchment in her hand.

Brighton sighed. "Professor Flitwick gave me a few recommendations."

"Pfft, Ravenclaws."

He grinned.

"Do you – do you need any help finding those?" she asked.

"Sure!" he said. "I mean, I don't want to keep you from – whatever you came here to do."

"Just some research. For fun."

"Fun?"

"I like… looking things up," Hermione said. She'd never been shy about her love for learning and she wasn't going to start now.

"Yeah, I get that."

"Sometimes I think I should have been sorted into Ravenclaw."

"We could have gotten to know each other sooner."

She laughed nervously and looked around the quiet room. "OK, let's take a look at this list."

An hour later, Hermione and Brighton had accumulated a tall stack of books and had begun to sort them.

"All the spells in this one are included in this compendium, so you don't need the first one. Let's put that one back," she said, setting aside a slim paperback.

"I'm pretty sure I read this one in seventh year," Brighton said. "I remember the dragon on the cover." He reached past her to put the book in the return pile.

Hermione levitated a thick, hardcover book off the top of the pile and into her hands. It was bound in red leather with a gold mandala embossed on the front. She ran her fingers over the pattern. "Oo, I don't think I've seen this one before."

"There's a book in here that you haven't read?" Brighton said, clutching his chest. She nudged him with her elbow.

"I think it's pretty new," she said flipping some of the pages. "It smells new."

Brighton stepped behind her to read over her shoulder. Hermione could feel the warmth of his body even though he wasn't actually touching her. She cleared her throat.

"It's a new collection of charms developed by Aurors in India…" Hermione said, her voice trailing off as she started to read.

"You want to take that one?"

"Oh, no – you're supposed to – "

"Flitwick's given me enough reading for a lifetime," Brighton said, waving toward the teetering book stack. "I think I'll be OK if you take that one for a few days."

"I won't keep it long," she said quickly. "I'll bring it back to you tomorrow."

"Meet back here? Same time, same place?"

"It's a d – I mean, that works for me," Hermione stuttered.

"Then it's a date," Brighton said with a grin.

* * *

The following afternoon, Hermione practically ran to the library. She'd been up almost all night reading about the new charms and was excited to talk about them – but that didn't keep her from stopping off at her room to change out of her uniform and into a casual skirt and sweater.

Brighton was already there waiting for her. They found a cozy corner of the reading room where she described what she'd learned from the red book.

"So they take the English sleep charm and combine with the Hindi freezing charm? That's brilliant! There could be medical applications – " he said, leaning in excitedly.

"I know! But you have to get the pronunciations absolutely perfect," Hermione reminded him as she pointed to a page in the book. "You can't just wing it if you don't speak Hindi well or you'll just make the person catch cold every time they try to take a nap."

"Still, you should show that to Madame Pomfrey."

"Already did," she said. "She's sending an owl to the school in Mumbai as we speak. Here's another interesting one…"

It was so much fun talking to someone who loved getting into the minutia of magic as much as she did. And the fact that the someone happened to be tall, dark, and handsome, someone whose face was just a few inches away from hers… She realized he was tilting his head toward hers and found herself responding in kind.

His lips brushed gently against hers, and he pulled back to see her reaction. She looked around the room at the other students, who all had their heads down in their books.

"Hermione?" he whispered.

"Follow me."

She led him to the stacks in a dark corner of the library, with the most challenging books that most students weren't even aware of. Once they'd rounded the corner, Hermione whirled around, grabbed Brighton by the shoulders, and kissed him hard.

Her busy mind quieted and all she could think about was his warm arms around her and the feel of his tongue against hers. She ran her hands over his short-cropped hair and down to his broad shoulders, where she could feel his muscles moving under his shirt. Then his mouth was on her neck and she hooked one leg around his waist. She felt like her body was responding on its own – she wasn't even thinking. She was just _acting._

Things were moving really fast for a first date, but Hermione didn't care. It felt good to _feel good_. Brighton backed her up against a bookshelf and she sighed in pleasure.

The only thing that stopped them was the flicker of candlelight, signaling that the library was closing for the night. Hermione smoothed her skirt down and Brighton tucked his shirt back in as they tried to catch their breath before leaving. He walked her back to the Gryffindor Tower and kissed her lightly.

"See you tomorrow."

"See you then." She smiled and bit her lower lip before dashing up the stairs.


	6. Chapter 6

Alternately studying and snogging was a fantastic way to spend one's time, Hermione thought. Brighton seemed to agree wholeheartedly. Though they spent most of their time together doing one of those two activities, he also occasionally walked her to class. On Wednesdays, he'd drop her off at Advanced Transfiguration on his way for his weekly class sitting in with Professor Trelawney.

One afternoon, their usual quick goodbye kiss outside the classroom turned into something slightly more.

"Hellooo, Brighton," said a singsong voice behind them.

Hermione giggled and her face grew hot as she and Brighton pulled apart. "Hi, Luna."

"Sorry, we were just –" Brighton began.

Luna raised an eyebrow but maintained her usual serene expression.

"I'm late," he said, jogging away. He turned around to wave before continuing on his way.

"He seems to like you an awful lot," Luna said as they watched him leave.

"I like him too."

"You two have quite a bit in common."

"We do," Hermione agreed. "It just makes everything so _easy_."

"Hmm…"

"Why 'hmm'? What does 'hmm' mean?"

Luna paused and looked off at nothing that Hermione could see.

"I was just thinking: You don't really have anything else to compare it to. Not really," Luna explained. "We've been in one life-threatening situation after another since we were children. Especially you. This is the first time we've been able just… _live._ "

"Well, yes, but, I mean, that's not why I like Brighton. But it is nice to feel _normal_. It's been hard to get readjusted."

"I know." Luna tugged a lock of hair over the scar on her forehead. She'd been seeing the healers at St. Mungo's too, but scars took time. "Just make sure you're in it for the right reasons, and not just because there's no evil forces interfering."

"I'm sure."

"OK, just checking. Oo! Class is starting." Luna skipped off into the classroom.

* * *

Hermione thought all day about what Luna had said. What was wrong with wanting things easy? She'd done complicated and all she got was a broken heart. Although she hadn't thought much about why they'd been complicated. Sure, she and Ron had very different personalities, but maybe that wasn't the real reason… well, it didn't matter anymore. She had tried and failed to fix him so it was time to move on. With someone less complicated.

Like most evenings, she had plans with Brighton, but instead of going to the library after dinner, she asked him if he wanted to skip the studying and go straight to his room.

It hadn't taken Hogwarts' two smartest students long to learn that the school's guest quarters did not have the same protections as the ones in the four houses, which kept boys and girls out of each other's rooms. Hermione had spent a lot of time snogging in Brighton's quarters during the last few weeks, but she'd always gone back to her room at the end of the night.

But tonight was different. As soon as he closed the door behind them, she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him. His arms slid around her waist and he lifted her off her feet, walking them further into the room. She broke away from him for a moment to take off her jacket, and his as well.

When they kissed again, Hermione slipped her hands up under the back of his shirt and felt his hot skin under her fingers. She ran her fingernails lightly down his back and he moaned against her lips. His body reacted and she could feel him getting hard against her.

Hermione grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up over his head, flinging it across the room. She moved to do the same to her shirt and he stopped her hands.

"Let me," Brighton said, slowly pulling her top up. She raised her arms and shook out her hair as he removed the shirt and dropped it. He paused to look at her and she ran her hands over the smooth muscles of his chest. Her breath sped up.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly.

"Yes…" she said, still sliding her hands over his bare skin.

"What about the charm to prevent – "

"Already done."

She'd actually performed the charm on herself more than a year earlier, when she thought…

Suddenly, Brighton's lips were on her neck while his hands were unhooking her bra, and she stopped thinking about anything or anyone else. She grasped him around the waist and pulled him back toward his bed in the corner of the room.

Lying in his bed, they slowly undressed each other, kissing and licking as they went. Hermione was a bit nervous, having heard stories from older girls late at night in the Gryffindor Common Room. But when he slid into her, it only hurt for a moment – and after that, it felt good. Unbelievably good.

"Oh gods," she sighed as she rocked her hips against his. Before she met Brighton, she had no idea her nipples were so sensitive. Right now, as he caressed and rolled them with his fingers, they were sending a jolt of warmth between her legs.

She locked her legs around his waist and they moved together faster… harder…

"Oh yes, keep doing that," she gasped as the pleasure rose through her body and exploded like stars through every limb. "Oh gods!"

"Hermione…" he sighed as he came after a few more long thrusts, which still felt wonderful even though she was spent.

* * *

Hermione didn't need a book to help her fall asleep that night. She was so pleasantly tired, and Brighton's chest was such a comfortable place to lay her head, that she drifted off easily.

Her sleep wasn't peaceful though. She was back in Malfoy Manor, her arm sliced open and Bellatrix's voice in her ear, and she was screaming for help that didn't come.

"Hermione! Wake up! You're OK. Hermione!"

She gasped and looked around wildly. Brighton was hovering over her, his hand on her cheek.

"You're OK, Hermione. You're here with me."

She wiped the tears off her face and struggled to catch her breath. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." He put his arm under her head and pulled her close to him. "Is this about what happened last year? You can talk to me about it. If you want to."

"I was… Bellatrix Lestrange had a hold of me… my friends saved me, but in the nightmare, they don't…" She sniffled and he brushed her hair off her face.

"You were screaming and clutching your arm," Brighton said, gently taking her left hand. "Is that how this happened?" Hermione hadn't thought the "MUDBLOOD" scar was still so visible, so she hadn't thought about it when they started taking their clothes off. She rubbed her hand over the faint letters and then tucked her arm around her middle.

"Yeah."

Brighton wrapped his other arm around her.

"It's just a nightmare," he said softly. "Go back to sleep and you'll feel better."

She didn't tell him that it wasn't just one nightmare. It happened most nights. Hermione, Ginny, and Luna roomed together not only because of their friendship, but because they all suffered terrors when they tried to sleep and it was easier to be with friends who understood. Who had _been there_.

Hermione could have explained it all to Brighton. But it was nice to have a part of her life that was separate from the tragedy.


	7. Chapter 7

One of the benefits of being a second-time seventh-year student was that they didn't need to get permission to go to into town anymore. Hermione, Neville, Seamus, and the others, being over eighteen, could mostly come and go as they pleased. Technically, Ginny and Luna needed permission from a teacher but none ever refused them.

It was a small thing, but oddly freeing, Hermione thought as she inhaled the sharp, cold autumn air on her way to Diagon Alley. Flourish and Blotts had a new line of ink that swirled different colours even after it had dried.

"Thanks for sending that owl," Hermione said to Gwinnifar Blotts as she rung up her purchase.

"I know you can't resist when we get new colours in," Gwinn said as she wrapped the three bottles in brown paper. "So are you excited to see the store opening again?"

"The store? Oh, the joke shop!" Hermione remembered. "Next week, right?"

"That's what the original announcement said, but then last night there was a surprise fireworks display above the shop that ended with the words 'GRAND OPENING TOMORROW 10AM.' Isn't it just like them?" Gwinn paused for a moment. "I mean, _him_ ," she added softly.

"It is," Hermione agreed. "Thanks for letting me know."

Minutes later, she stood across the street and watched the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes sign whirl in the breeze. The paper had been taken off the windows and the lights were on — it was indeed open for business. In one window, George was putting up a display of… red gloves? While she watched to see if she could tell what they were for, he looked up and spotted her. He waved a red-gloved hand at her, and she waved back.

George cocked his head in toward the shop, indicating that she should come in. Hermione gestured that she had to keep going. George raised the red glove, which grew to about five times its normal size, and then extended out the window and across the street toward her, until it was a few inches from her nose. The giant red glove raised one finger and beckoned her to follow. She laughed and did what George's glove wanted her to do.

The red glove zipped back inside ahead of her, but when she stepped in the door of the shop, George was nowhere to be seen. The shop was just as it had been before, with colourful jokes and pranks spinning and flying overhead and underfoot. Hermione walked further in to see the rest of the store.

In the back, a squawking bird-like creature buzzed in circles, leaving a trail of silvery dust in the air behind it. A little girl and her mother watched the bird, as Ron told them about the other colours available. He was smiling, and the sun shining through the window glinted red-gold on his hair.

Hermione watched for a moment as the child giggled and clapped. Ron sent another bird spinning into the air, this one trailing gold dust. When he turned to see it go, he saw Hermione. He froze for a second, then gave her a half-smile and waved shyly. She waggled her fingers back.

The little girl turned to see who he'd waved at and she spotted Hermione too.

"Mummy, I think that's Hermione Granger!" she said in a loud whisper. She turned back to Ron. "That's her, right? I saw her in the paper!"

"That's her, all right," Ron said, without breaking eye contact with Hermione.

The girl turned slowly and looked at Ron again. "Wait, are you Ron Weasley? _Mum_!"

"Darling, the shop is called _Weasley's_ Wizard Wheezes," the mother said.

"I know, but I didn't think — I can't wait to tell my friends that I met you both! Is Harry Potter here too?"

The mother looked at them both sheepishly and mouthed, "Sorry."

"Sweetheart, why don't we go find something for your brother?" she added, herding her child to a different part of the shop.

"Bye, Hermione! Bye, Ron!" the girl hollered over her shoulder.

Hermione walked closer to where Ron was standing.

"Looks like you have a fan," he chuckled.

"You too."

Ron shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at his shoes.

"You.. you look well," Hermione added.

"Better than last time you saw me, eh?"

"Um…"

"It's OK, I know I was acting like an arse." He looked up at her from under his eyelashes.

"You're not still angry?"

"Hermione, if we held a grudge every time one of us yelled at the other, this?" He waved a finger between them. "Would have been over years ago."

A tightness that Hermione had been carrying in her chest for weeks suddenly lifted and she laughed out loud.

Ron laughed too. "Sure, I was angry at first, but the next day when I sobered up — and when Ginny and George tore a strip off me — I thought _maybe_ you had some good points."

"Well, I'm glad to see you back to yourself," Hermione said. He blushed and a long, awkward pause hung between them.

"So… you're working here now?" she finally said.

"Just helping George get things going again. Too much work for one person." A look of sadness ghosted across his face. "And I needed something to do with myself until I start Auror training."

"What? When?"

"Didn't Ginny tell you? I start in a couple of weeks but Harry's been getting me caught up. I passed my NEWTs, you know. You could pass them blindfolded — I don't know why you didn't just —"

Hermione tried but failed to control a yawn.

"— unless school is actually wearing you out this time?"

"No, it's not that, I just —" She fiddled with a lock of her hair. "I didn't sleep well last night."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I'm not sleeping well most nights. That's sort of why I, y'know, was acting the way I was. Passing out was better for keeping the nightmares away than falling asleep normally. Or at least I didn't remember 'em in the morning."

"Oh…"

"G'dafternooooon," George crowed as he strode in from the back room. A stack of boxes levitated ahead of him and he lowered them next to a side window display. The top few boxes toppled to the floor. "Miz Granger…"

Hermione saw that George's ear had regrown. He'd been going to St. Mungo's — she wondered if the treatment had been as painful as the one for her scar.

"George," she said in greeting. "Good to see the shop open again."

"Don't change the subject," George said, leaning against a shop table and twirling his wand. "The Hogwarts alumni grapevine tells me that you've been canoodling with Brighton Shacklebolt. Really, love, you could do better."

"Oh stop."

Ron interrupted. "Shacklebolt? Who's this then?"

"Kingsley's nephew. Ravenclaw. Mr. Perfect." George flicked his wand toward the sign advertising Puking Pastilles, which made a loud, realistic vomiting sound. "Booooring."

"Well… I like him."

"No accounting for taste," George said, shaking his head. "Anyway, I need my _employee_ to get back to work before the evening rush." Ron sighed. "You can ring up that lady with the hyperactive tot or you can unpack these."

"I'll unpack."

"Lovely to see you, m'dear." George tipped an imaginary cap toward Hermione before jogging to the cash register.

"So I should get going…" Hermione began.

"Since Harry and I will be in town at the Ministry most days, we should get together," Ron said. "Meet up for lunch or something."

"We should," Hermione said with a smile. "It's been too long."

* * *

Later that evening, back in their room in Gryffindor Tower, Hermione told Ginny that she'd seen her brothers that afternoon.

"I didn't know Ron was working with George now."

"Just for a bit, until his training at the Ministry starts up," Ginny replied.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Hermione asked.

"I thought it might be awkward."

"Why?" Hermione said, kicking off her shoes and digging her pyjamas from her drawer.

"Because, you know, you two almost…"

Hermione tried to keep her expression impassive while Ginny stammered.

"Because we all thought you and Ron would end up together someday," Luna chimed in. "It's why she doesn't tell him anything about you either."

"Luna!" Ginny threw a pillow at her.

Luna stopped the flying pillow with her wand and dropped it back on Ginny's bed. "It's the truth." She laid her wand on the bedside table and climbed under her covers. "Sorry I woke you both up last —"

"Stop," Hermione said. "No apologies, we agreed."

"Sorry. I mean, OK," Luna said.

The other two settled into their beds and Ginny used her wand to flick the lights out. Hermione lay in the silence, hoping that her mind would quiet down enough for her to fall asleep soon — and that she wouldn't be the one waking up her friends when the nightmares came.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry picked a new café in Diagon Alley that had a floo entrance, so he and Ron could get there quickly from the Ministry. Hermione arrived first and found a table near the back. The other customers were mostly young people who had graduated Hogwarts within the last few years. They barely acknowledged her presence, which was nice – Harry didn't even attract much notice when he and Ron arrived. She was glad that the unwanted attention was starting to die down.

"A lot of these people were still at Hogwarts when I blew my eyebrows off in Potions first year," Harry said. "I suppose they're unimpressed."

"I can see that," Ron added. " _I'm_ certainly not impressed by you."

Hermione chuckled but then the three fell into an awkward silence. Harry cleared his throat and picked up a menu.

"Let's order so we can get back to work on time," he said.

Fortunately, the talk of food opened up the conversation, which quickly flowed from lunch choices to Auror training to school gossip and other unimportant topics. Hermione realized that it had been ages since they'd had a long conversation about anything that wasn't life-or-death. It felt like they were getting to be themselves again.

"We need to keep doing this," Hermione said as they gathered their robes to leave. "Meeting up, I mean."

"Absolutely," Harry agreed. "I needed this." He gave Hermione a quick hug.

"Yeah, me too," said Ron.

She thought he was going in for a hug so she leaned forward, but when he didn't do the same she quickly leaned back again, only to see him clumsily lift his arms, just a bit. They both laughed self-consciously.

"Aw, come on, bring it in," Ron finally said, opening his arms. She stepped into them and pressed her cheek to his chest as he squeezed her, just for a moment, before he and Harry headed toward the floo and Hermione left through the door.

The lunches became a semi-regular thing. Occasionally, Ginny or another friend joined them, but usually it was just Hermione, Ron, and Harry. Every time she returned from one of their lunches, she felt lighter for the rest of the day. Between her nights with Brighton and her afternoons with her best friends, Hermione's troubled mind was growing more still every day.

By the time she left Hogwarts for the holiday break, she was sleeping through most nights. She still had nightmares, but they weren't as terrifying as they'd been before and they didn't usually awaken her — although just in case, she cast a _Muffliato_ across her bedroom door at home each night, so as not to worry her parents.

* * *

The weeks at home were filled with visits with her Muggle cousins, many of whom she hadn't seen since the previous Christmas, and trips to the Burrow or Grimmauld Place, where Harry and Ron had settled in. Brighton had gone up to Yorkshire to visit family, and Hermione was so busy that she barely gave a thought to missing him…

…which is why, when he returned to Hogwarts only to tell her that he was leaving, she wasn't as heartbroken as she would have thought.

Since the war, more wizarding families were coming out into the open all over the world. The already-large Nigerian wizarding school was overwhelmed with new students, so a new school was to be launched in Kenya as quickly as possible. Student teachers were being asked to go assist the instructors in getting the school ready to open for the next school year. The African Ministry was scouting locations in South Africa as well.

"I wanted to come tell you in person," he said. They sat on the edge of his bed next to his suitcases, which were mostly packed. "I wanted to make sure you understood why I —"

"Of course I understand," Hermione said, taking his hands in hers. "This is too good an opportunity to pass up. Starting a whole new school! From scratch! I'm a little envious."

He squeezed her hands tightly. "Why don't you come with us?" he asked. "If you asked, they'd probably let you take your NEWTs early."

"I know, but I — I feel like since I've made it this far, I want to finish up and graduate properly," she said. "It's silly, I know."

"It's not," Brighton said, smiling sadly. "I'd probably do the same thing." He kissed her softly. "I'm going to miss you."

"Since you're not leaving until the morning, we still have a few more hours together," Hermione said. With a " _Wingardium leviosa_ ," she easily lifted his suitcases off the bed and set them down on the floor. She then took his face in her hands and kissed him passionately, pushing him back onto the pillows and crawling on top of him as he slid his hands under her skirt. "Let's spend them the best way we can."

* * *

It was easy for Hermione to once again lose herself in schoolwork. Students in their last semester of their last year took Experimental Magic, which was one of the reasons she had wanted to see her school career through.

It was an unstructured class that gave the more experienced students the opportunity to improve upon existing spells or even create entirely new ones, through trial and error. Protections cast on the spell laboratory kept anyone from getting too badly hurt — a red flash would absorb any spell that could cause significant harm. Seamus was becoming all too familiar with that result.

"Bloody hell!" he shouted as another bright-red fireball knocked him a few steps backward.

"I could help you if you'd let me," Neville said.

"Stick with your plants, Longbottom," Seamus sputtered.

Luna leaned in toward Hermione. "I think he's just jealous because Neville's created more new spells than any of us," she said.

Hermione snickered.

"At least I'm trying to make something exciting," Seamus argued. "Yours are all so dull and… _practical_."

Hermione fixed Seamus with a stern sidelong glare. "I already know 16 different spells that can blow things up. I really don't see the need to create new ones."

Besides, she was thrilled with the spell she'd created that allowed her to write letters to her parents and have them appear immediately on the scroll in their home office. And the _Vestidio transfigurum_ spell that allowed one to transform their clothes into new, clean ones? She was especially proud of that one, just because it was so useful.

"The painkilling spell Neville finished up last week is already being used at St. Mungo's," Luna said, pushing her bangs aside and showing her healed skin. "Sometimes dull and practical is exciting too."

Seamus glowered and switched to another lab table. Neville grinned at the girls and lowered his goggles before reaching into a pot of Sparking Harrowweed.

Hermione had an appointment at St. Mungo's the following day, and her anxiety must have shown on her face because Luna leaned in close again.

"I promise, it barely hurt at all with the new spell. They'll be able to finish up the treatment all at once and you'll be as good as new by tomorrow night," she said quietly.

Hermione didn't think she'd ever be as good as new, but with her body nearly healed and her best friends back in her life, she thought maybe she'd get close someday.


	9. Chapter 9

After Ron and Harry started the on-the-job portion of their Auror training, it was hard to schedule their lunchtime get-togethers. They often got called away at the last minute to follow an experienced Auror on potentially interesting missions, leaving Hermione to eat alone at a table for three.

She was beginning to think that's what had happened again one afternoon, when the café door opened and her friends strode in wearing the long black coats of Aurors. The coats were designed to make a certain impression, and they were working. She knew Harry and Ron better than anyone, but in the coats, they looked enigmatic and just a little bit dangerous — especially Ron, whose long strides made the coat swirl around him like he'd just apparated in. Her school uniform suddenly felt even more childish than it had before.

"Sorry we're late," Harry said, sliding into a chair.

That's when Hermione noticed a third person who accompanied them: A young woman, nearly as tall as Ron, with dark hair pulled back in a fluffy ponytail. She wore a long coat as well.

Ron grabbed a chair from a nearby empty table and the woman sat with them.

"I'm Carlotta," the woman said, extending her hand. She had an Italian accent. "You must be Hermione."

"Um…" Hermione began as she shook hands with the woman.

"Carlotta's on our training team," Ron explained.

When she saw Carlotta put her hand on Ron's knee, Hermione realized why he'd invited her. Harry caught Hermione's eye and gave her an apologetic shrug but she waved him off. The waitress arrived to take their order.

"I'll have the fish and ch—" Ron began.

"We're in training," Carlotta interrupted. "He'll have the salad with steamed chicken. Same for me." The waitress's pen scratched the order onto the scroll, which hovered over the table.

"They have salads here?" Hermione mused aloud.

"One for you as well?" the waitress asked.

"Oh no," Hermione scoffed. "I'll have the fish and chips."

"Me too," Harry smirked. Ron eyed them both forlornly.

"So, um, how is the training going for you, Carlotta?" Hermione asked.

"Very well, thank you," she replied. "Most of it is quite easy, actually. The Pizzicato School in Tuscany is very… how do you say? Rigorous?"

"So I hear," Hermione said. "I hope Hogwarts left these two well-prepared too."

Carlotta shrugged. "They'll learn soon enough."

"Oh!" Harry interjected. "That reminds me — Ron and I are coming to school later in the month to help finish up the repairs."

Most of the damage to Hogwarts had been fixed up just days after the Battle. All it took was a wave of an experienced wizard's wand to send the stones and glass shards soaring back to where they belonged. The pieces that had more magic in their construction, like the staircases, the Chamber of Secrets, and the Room of Requirement, took a lot more time. Anything necessary to everyday operation of the school was fixed first — the stairs were barely completed before the first day of classes, so the rest had to wait. Hermione had heard that some Ministry staff might be coming to finish up the other repairs near the end of the school year.

"Will you be coming too, Carlotta?"

"Me? No," she snickered. "Why would I volunteer to move bricks at a children's school when I can be learning to fight Death Eaters?"

"It's just for a day," Ron said.

"It's a waste of our time," Carlotta replied. "You should demand more for yourselves. I'm here to train."

Fortunately, their plates floated over to their table and intruded on that moment.

The conversation was mostly small talk from that point on, but Hermione was sure she didn't like Carlotta. Ron seemed OK with her overbearing personality but Hermione didn't like seeing him treated that way.

As soon as the plates were cleared, Carlotta stood.

"We need to get back," she said. "Let's go, Ron."

"You two go ahead. I'm going to stay for a few more minutes," Harry said. "I'm not worried about being late."

"I'm sure _you're_ not," Carlotta said.

"Nice to meet you," Hermione said as they walked away from the table.

Harry and Hermione waited until the pair had actually exited the restaurant before turning to each other.

"What is _that_ about?" Hermione asked.

"You see it, right? She's —"

"She's so _bossy_!" Hermione exclaimed. "How can you stand her? How can _he_ stand her?"

"Well… I think…" Harry paused.

"What?"

"Don't get mad…"

" _What_ , Harry?"

"I think maybe Ron has a thing for bossy women with big hair?" Harry said. "I mean, there's you, and now..."

Hermione set her jaw.

"Wait — your type of bossy is good," Harry said quickly. "Ron and I probably wouldn't be alive today if you didn't order us around once in a while."

Hermione half-smiled even though she didn't want to. "Maybe."

"You're not _that_ bossy. Not anymore. But it does seem that there's a pattern here."

"We were never a couple," Hermione reminded him. "It was just that one time… well, twice, sort of..."

Harry was silent.

"Really, we're just friends and that's fine,"she added.

"And I'm not disagreeing with you."

Hermione fiddled with the corner of her napkin.

"So you got the coat, hmm?" she finally said with a grin. She reached over and tugged on Harry's lapel. "Looks good on you."

* * *

Hermione was in the library looking for a transfiguration book recommended by Professor McGonagall when the image of a tiny dog bounded up to her. Ron's voice came from his Patronus.

"Hermione, I need help… wait, that sounds bad — hold on, dog, let's start over. OK. Hey, Hermione, can you come meet me in the Room of Requirement? I need help with something."

The dog Patronus spun into a wisp and vanished.

Hermione smiled. She knew Ron and Harry would be at Hogwarts with the Aurors that day, but she wasn't expecting to see them until later.

She was still in her school clothes, so Hermione ducked into a quiet corner to use her new spell.

" _V_ _estidio transfigurum_ _,"_ she whispered, changing her school uniform into a light sweater and trousers. Then she decided that the outfit might be too dressy so she switched it to something more casual — jeans, a camisole, and a hoodie.

She tucked her wand in her back pocket and headed toward the Room of Requirement's door.

Hermione was glad that the Ministry decided to fix the Room. It certainly wasn't critical to the school, but she had made a lot of memories there. When she arrived at the solid wooden door, a doorknob appeared, allowing her to open it.

She stepped inside just in time to see a rock slab fly toward her, then zig away before she had a chance to duck. It landed on the floor with a thud.

Ron stood a few paces away, looking sheepish. "Sorry, 'Mione."

"Dear Merlin, Ron! You did that? You could have killed me!"

"It was an accident. I stopped it before it hit you, though…"

Hermione took a deep breath to slow her heartbeat to normal. " _What_ are you doing?"

"These last few magicked pieces —" he waved his wand at the stone slabs that lay scattered about "— need to go back there." He pointed his wand up at the top section of the incomplete back wall. "They need to go back together like a puzzle — like there and there?"

"OK…"

"Problem is, all the magic makes them heavier than usual. I can lift them, but I can't slip them perfectly into place. And I don't want to ask one of my team members for help — there's a few who already think Harry and I don't deserve to be here."

"Saving the world isn't enough to qualify?"

"Yeah, I'll keep bringing that up," Ron chuckled. "That'll make them _love_ me."

"Well, I'm sorry you're having a rough go."

"It's all right," he shrugged. "Harry seems to be getting along fine. I… I just don't know if this is really what I want to do."

"I'm sure that once you get past the training —"

"I know, I'm going to give it a chance," Ron said, scuffing his shoe against the floor. "But I'm starting to wonder if this life-or-death thing isn't for me. I've already had my share."

Hermione nodded. "The Aurors are already asking if I'd join them, but I've been talking to some people in Magical Creatures. I think I'm going to try that when I'm done with school."

"No advanced studies?"

"I thought about it, but after this year, I think I'm done with school."

Ron gasped dramatically and put his hand to his chest.

"Stop," she laughed. "Were you thinking about what else you might want to do?"

"I really liked working at George's shop," Ron said with a sheepish grin. "He tried to talk me into partnering with him."

Hermione smiled back at him. "You were good at it, from what I saw."

"We'll see, I guess. Someday."

Hermione thought he might be blushing. He may have been wearing the dangerous, sexy black coat, but on the inside, he was still the boy she knew in school. She felt warmth rising in her cheeks too.

"So, um, you think I can do this?" she asked quickly, kicking one of the stone slabs.

"Precision is kinda your thing."

"Yeah, well…" Hermione said with false modesty. "What spell were you using?"

"Just a _Wingardium leviosa_ _._ Is that the right one, do you think?"

"Yes, I agree," she said, pulling her wand out. "Let's see if I can move the one that almost took my head off."

She took a strong stance, stretched her arm straight and pointed her wand. " _Wingardium leviosa_!"

The slab wobbled and came a few feet off the floor. Hermione's arm shook with the effort — sweat began to bead on her forehead and she lowered the slab safely.

"Are you all right?" Ron asked, coming to her side.

"I've never tried lifting anything so heavy," she said, breathing hard. "I'm not sure I can help with this."

Ron ran his hand through his hair as he thought. "What if we both lifted it at the same time? I'll be the muscle and you can guide it into place?"

"It's worth a try."

They both planted their feet firmly and pointed their wands.

"Ready?" Ron asked. She nodded.

" _Wingardium leviosa_ _!_ " they shouted in unison.

Bolts of magic shot forth from their wand tips. The giant stone rose from the floor, wobbling, but better than either of them had been able to do on their own. Still, it wasn't steady enough to place it into the high point of the wall.

"We need to bring the wands together!" Hermione shouted over the crackle of the intense magic.

They both stepped sideways, toward each other, careful not to lose their concentration. As they moved closer, the magic streams began to flow together, and their hold on the stone slab grew stronger. They guided it up, but halfway there, it began to shake erratically.

"Closer!" she shouted.

Ron and Hermione slid their feet across the floor until they were shoulder to shoulder. Hermione could feel that they _almost_ had it, if they could just blend their magic a bit more. Ron must have felt it too, because he stepped behind her so that he was up against her back with their arms outstretched together.

The magic bolts blended together as one, and Hermione felt Ron's power coursing through her. Her knees nearly buckled and Ron caught her around the waist.

"Are you OK?" His mouth was right at her ear.

She nodded, unable to speak. It took a moment for her to remember to breathe.

With the perfect meld of strength and control, they steered the slab through the air to its place in the wall, and smoothly guided it in. Their combined power vibrated through her body with such force that when they lowered their wands, its absence was startling.

Ron cleared his throat.. "Um, so, I guess that worked pretty well." He dropped his arm from around her waist and took a step back.

"Yeah, we're a — a good team." She exhaled hard and shook her arms and hands out. Her reaction was probably just surprise, she thought. "So, I suppose we should get this finished up?"

"Right. OK," he said, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Let's get that one next then."

Hermione turned to face the stone and held her breath for a moment when Ron came up behind her and placed his hand on her hip. He raised his wand and she raised hers, pressing her arm into his.

" _Wingardium leviosa_!"

The magic's effect on Hermione's body was even greater the second time. It tingled from her chest out to her fingers and toes — and everywhere else. She redoubled her focus on lifting the stone slab, but that didn't stop her physical reaction. Warmth was slowly building between her legs and her breathing sped up, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Not with Ron's magic surging through her.

When the stone was placed and Ron let his arm down, Hermione inhaled deeply. She slipped her arms out of her hoodie and tossed it aside, leaving just the camisole. "I'm getting kind of warm. This is hard work."

"I was just thinking the same thing," Ron said, removing his coat. Underneath it, he wore a simple short-sleeved black shirt. It was just snug enough that Hermione could see the effects of the fitness elements of Auror training. She looked down at her shoes. The magic vibrations were clouding her thoughts — she needed to focus.

"Just a few more," she said, and Ron settled himself behind her again. She could feel the warmth of his skin through their clothes now, which wasn't making things easier.

Again and again, they combined their magic to move the heavy stones into place. Each time, Hermione felt that slow build in her core, and each time it was more frustrating when they stopped. Ron was getting red in his cheeks, so she was sure he was feeling it too.

And really, it was just a physiological reaction. No need to discuss it and make things awkward.

By the time they'd put the last stone into place, Hermione was hanging on to her self-control by a thread. Part of her wanted to throw him down on the floor and finish what they'd started, and the other part of her wanted to get away from him as quickly as possible. He was her best friend — and he was taken. The magic was putting thoughts in her head that shouldn't be there.

"I should really go — homework to finish," she said, picking their coats up and handing him his.

"Yeah, I should, ah, find my team leader and tell her I'm done. _We're_ done."

"Don't tell her that part." Hermione caught herself staring as he put the Auror coat back on. "I- I'll see you later."

She left the Room and walked as fast as she could down the hallway. Despite her better judgment, she turned to look back. She watched as Ron exited, carrying his coat and trying to catch his breath. After a moment, he ran a hand over his face and exhaled hard before heading down the hall in the other direction. Hermione changed back into her school uniform with a swish of her wand and scurried back to the Gryffindor Tower.

"Dear girl, you look flushed!" exclaimed the Fat Lady when Hermione arrived at the top of the stairs. "You should take care of yourself."

"I will," she said.

Once in her room, she confirmed that her roommates weren't in before casting a _Colloportus_ across the door. She sat on the edge of her bed, and slid her hand under her skirt. Touching herself was usually reserved for times she was alone in the dark, but with the way she felt, she couldn't make it until nighttime.

It was no surprise to find how wet she was. She drew a finger through the moisture and found the exact spot that would make her come quickly. No need for more teasing — all she wanted was release. She rubbed in tiny circles, faster and faster, feeling the exquisite pressure building inside her. For a moment, she thought she felt Ron's warm body against her again, but she pushed that memory out of her mind and just focused on the feeling between her legs.

She gasped and her breath caught as she reached that point of no return. The sensation grew more intense and she rubbed faster, harder, until her body shuddered with pleasure.

Hermione fell back onto her bed, exhausted from everything that had happened. She closed her eyes and her mind again drifted to Ron in the Room of Requirement.

The next thing she knew, she was waking to the sound of pounding on the door.

"Hermione, you in there?" Ginny yelled. "Open up! I forgot my Potions book and I have to get to class!"

Hermione pushed her skirt down and tried to make herself look a little less disheveled.

"Hermione!"

"Sorry!" she called back. Her wand had fallen to the floor and she scrambled to pick it up. " _Alohomora_!"

The door swung open and Ginny ran in.

"Oh! You were napping, I'm sorry," she said as she flung open her trunk.

"I needed to get up anyway," she replied.

"Good — I know you didn't sleep well last night and I would have felt terrible if you were too tired to come out tonight. Where did I put it?" Ginny yanked out handful of quill pens and dropped them on the floor. Hermione watched them roll and scatter.

"Oh wow, I almost forgot about that." Since Harry and Ron were around, the seventh/eighth years and a few others had planned a trip to Hogsmeade that evening.

"You have to come, it's going to be brilliant to have everyone together again." The entire upper half of Ginny's body was submerged in her trunk.

"I'll be there. Plus, it'll be nice to get a break from _Il Capo_ _._ " Ginny had met Carlotta too, and her feelings about her were similar to Hermione's.

"You didn't hear? _Il Capo_ is _finito_ _._ "

"What?"

"I saw my brother earlier and he said they broke up, thank Merlin. Ah! My book!" Ginny emerged holding her Potions text triumphantly. "Bye!"

Hermione grabbed her arm. "Wait — what happened?"

"He told her he was thinking about quitting the Aurors to work at the shop, and she said he didn't have enough ambition, and there was a big argument, and now the rest of us don't have to pretend to like her anymore. I really have to run — sorry about the mess!" Ginny ran out and Hermione heard her footsteps down the stairs.

"It's fine…" Hermione mumbled distractedly, twirling her wand at Ginny's pile and waving her school supplies back into the trunk. The lid flopped closed and Hermione sat on top of it.

Her head was spinning. She couldn't quite identify what she was feeling. Happiness? Sure, she was glad that her friend wasn't with someone who clearly wasn't good for him. Surprise? Maybe a little. Relief? Yes, but at what?

What she really felt the most was confusion.


	10. Chapter 10

Staying busy was a great way to avoid one's feelings, and Hermione's last weeks of school were a whirlwind. Between taking her NEWTs and interviewing at the Ministry and looking for place to live, Hermione had time for little else.

She took just a few days off after graduation, and her parents stayed to help her move into her tiny flat. Her friends had talked about living together once school was over, but then Ginny had been recruited by the Holyhead Harpies and Luna decided to move back in with her father for a while. Hermione didn't mind though — she'd never lived on her own and was looking forward to having her own space. Plus, she'd had her heart set on living in the city, but she knew that Luna and Ginny weren't as comfortable as she was living amongst Muggles.

It was small, just a bedroom, bathroom, and combined living room/kitchenette, but it was hers. And it was a short walk from the Ministry and Grimmauld Place, the two other places where she spent most of her time. It was full of second-hand furniture from her Muggle relatives, and it was perfect.

Hermione loved the order and routine of her post-Hogwarts life. She loved putting on her robes and taking the floo into the Ministry every morning. She loved her cosy office in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Her supervisor knew who Hermione was and acknowledged her real-world wizarding experience, but didn't treat her differently than the others on staff. She made friends in her department, and they enjoyed structure and organization as much as she did — well, almost as much.

She even had an admirer — a young wizard from Magical Law Enforcement had asked her out. Hermione let him down kindly, since she didn't feel like it was the right time for romantic entanglements, especially at work, but it was nice to have been asked.

Best of all, Hermione got to see Ron and Harry nearly every day. When they were in the offices, they usually popped in to her department, even if just for a moment.

But the more they went out, the more Hermione worried. The higher-ups in the Auror Office finally realized that Harry and Ron were unusually skilled at battling dark magic and were moving them through the training program more quickly — and sending them out on riskier jobs.

Fortunately, she'd been allowed to sign up for the modified howler notification system. Someone at Hermione's level normally wouldn't have clearance for that, but her supervisor made an exception. The little slips of paper would flutter into her office and announce, "Auror Team 42 has left on a mission to Essex" — or Edinburgh, or east London, or wherever dark magic had been detected. Then a few hours later, another slip would appear over her desk and tell her, "Auror Team 42 has returned safely." It wasn't much, but the howlers made her feel better. Mr. Weasley got the notifications as well, although he got more detail. Sometimes, she'd go to his office and ask, but most of the time, she didn't want to know — as long as they returned safely.

One morning, Hermione was in an especially good mood. Her proposal for a plan to begin exploring the possibility of a Hippogriff sanctuary had been accepted, meaning that she had a Ministry-sanctioned meeting with Hagrid the following week. She got in to her office early to start working on a more detailed budget for the project.

She was deep into research on the costs for other creature sanctuaries when a modified howler appeared over the wall of books on her desk.

"Auror Team 42 has left on a classified mission."

"Where did they go?" she asked without thinking.

"Auror Team 42 has left on a classified mission," it said again before flying off.

Hermione threw herself into her work to make the time pass faster. She barely looked up from her budget until a co-worker appeared in her doorway.

"Ezra and I are going to Hogsmeade — have you eaten yet?" asked Liam.

"Oh!" She looked at the clock. "I nearly forgot. Can you just bring back a bacon sandwich for me? I'd rather not leave in case there's news of the Aurors that went out today."

"Are they on that Malfoy mission?"

"The _what_?" she asked, alarmed.

Liam stepped into her office and closed the door.

"Sorry, I thought you knew."

"Tell me," she demanded. Liam's boyfriend was a low-level administrator in the Auror Office and sometimes had inside information.

"Ezra heard that a Malfoy relative was suspected of using dark magic, something out in Cardiff. When we heard about the classified mission, we assumed that's what it was about," Liam explained. "But I don't know anything for sure."

Hermione's stomach tightened, and it must have shown on her face as well.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have worried you," Liam said.

"No, it's better that I know," she said.

Liam returned later with her sandwich, but she barely touched it. Every time a howler flew through her office door and announced something other than the status of Auror Team 42, her heart sank a little more.

A little after five pm, Liam and Ezra came by her office.

"Do you want us to stay with you?" Ezra asked.

"No, you two go home," Hermione said. "I'm sure it's fine — dark magic just doesn't quit at five like the rest of us."

"OK, but send a Patronus if you need us," Liam said.

After her friends were gone, Hermione got up and started pacing. She felt that she needed to _do_ something but there was nothing that she could do. As the time ticked passed, she forced herself to finish the sandwich, now cold, so she wouldn't have to go off in search of food. Then she took a blank howler out of her desk and gave it a message, "Status update requested on Auror Team 42." Maybe they'd sent one and she just hadn't received it.

The howler returned shortly. "Some members of Auror Team 42 have returned safely. Some members are still in the field. No further information is available."

A moment later, another slip of paper fluttered in. It was from Mr. Weasley.

"Ron and Harry aren't back yet. I don't know anything else."

Arthur was trying to sound calm, but Hermione heard the note of worry in his voice. She ran through the nearly empty Ministry halls to his office.

"No one seems to know where they are," Arthur said when he saw her in his doorway. "Half the team returned with Lucius Malfoy's cousin — they thought the rest of the team had already come back." He ran his hand through his hair, just as Ron did when he was thinking. Hermione saw his hand tremble slightly. "I'm going to the Auror Office to see what I can find out."

"I'm coming too."

"No, you should stay in your office in case a howler arrives."

Hermione reluctantly agreed and they parted ways, promising to share any new information immediately. She hurried back to her office to continue pacing. Work wasn't going to be able to distract her now. Her sandwich roiled in her stomach and she breathed deeply to keep it down.

The minutes ticked by. Every time she heard a rustle of paper outside her door, she looked up only to see a howler pass by on its way to a different office. Six o'clock passed, then seven. She thought about Molly Weasley, who was probably sitting at home, watching her family's clock and waiting for Ron's hand to move off of "Lost" — or perhaps "Mortal Peril." Hermione hoped that wasn't what the clock said.

When she was little, she never understood why adults wrung their hands when they were upset, but now she did — it was the only way to keep her hands from shaking. She started sending howlers for status updates every half hour, not caring anymore if she was being a pest. Every time, the howler replied: "No further information is available about the members of Auror Team 42."

The helplessness was growing unbearable.

It was nearly nine when she heard another rustle at her door. She looked up slowly and saw Ron , scratched up and disheveled, but in one piece.

"My dad said you were still waiting…"

She ran to him but stopped short of throwing her arms around him. "You're — are you —"

"I'm fine," he said. "Harry too."

A sob escaped her throat and she clutched the lapels of his coat. She dropped her forehead against his chest and the tears that had she'd been holding back for hours — _months_ — finally spilled over.

He squeezed her shoulders gently. "Hey, what's this now?"

"I-I-I thought I'd lost you." She kept her face buried against him, embarrassed at her tears.

"After everything we've been through, a bunch of pixies weren't going to be able to take us out."

"Pixies?"

"Yeah, _thousands_ of 'em. The guy was breeding them and when we showed up, he released them on us. It took hours to chase 'em all down. Still not sure we got every one."

Hermione took a long, shuddering breath and he rubbed her arms.

"Sorry to have worried you — we didn't think we'd be gone so long."

"It's not just today," she said, pulling back a bit and wiping her tears with her fingers. Ron moved further into her office and closed her door.

"It's every time," she continued. "Every time you go out, I worry until you come back. I even got special clearance for the howler notifications about your team."

"Every time? I'm sorry, I didn't —"

"No, don't apologize. It's just… I've almost lost you so many times. And every time, you come back, but it's hard not to wonder if someday —" Her tears began to flow again. "—you won't."

Hermione hated crying in front of anyone, but she couldn't stop after holding her feelings in for so long. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed. Ron wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm sorry, you shouldn't have to —" she began.

"I told you, I'm fine. Let's get you home."

He sent a quick howler to his father telling him that they were leaving, then turned to Hermione. "Are you ready?"

Hermione gestured toward the door. "I don't want anyone to see me like this." She dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve.

"I know," he said softly. He put his arm around her shoulders and waved his wand. They apparated into a shadowed alley next to Hermione's building.

"I put up protections," she said at Ron's look of confusion. "This is the closest you can get if you're not me."

Ron grinned. "Brilliant."

She couldn't help but smile back. They walked up her front steps together, and climbed the three flights of stairs to her flat. When she opened the door, Hermione realized they'd never been alone in her flat before.

The first thing she did was go to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face.

"I'm feeling better now." She came back out to the living room, drying her face with a hand towel. "Thanks for taking care of me."

"Someone has to," Ron said with a half-smile.

"Um, I should probably try to get some sleep," she said.

"Yeah, right, you should do that," he said. "I'll just — good night."

He opened the door and walked out, but before he could close it, Hermione called out to him.

"Ron, wait."

"Yeah?" He peeked back inside.

"Could you, um, would you mind staying here tonight?" Hermione asked.

He smiled softly. "As long as you need me."

He came back inside and took off his coat, throwing it on a chair. "Oh wait, should I hang that up?"

"No, leave it." They were silent for a moment. "Do you want to watch the telly?" she finally asked.

His face lit up. "I was hoping you'd suggest that."

She gave him the remote and reminded him how to use it. They sat on the couch next to each other, barely touching, but when Hermione started to nod off, Ron put his arm around her. The last thing she remembered before drifting off was resting her head on his shoulder and thinking how comfortable it was.

For the first time in more than a year, Hermione didn't have any nightmares.


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione woke to the sun streaming in through her living room window. She hadn't slept that late in a long time. The second thing she noticed was that her neck and shoulder were stiff from sleeping on the couch. The third thing she noticed was the smell of eggs and bacon. She turned her sore neck to see Ron in the kitchenette, using his wand to direct the spatulas flipping the eggs and bacon and the toaster in sending the warmed slices of bread onto plates. On the countertop, her teakettle was pouring hot tea into waiting cups.

"You're up!" he said when he saw her watching. "I held off on breakfast as long as I could, but I was starving."

Hermione stood and stretched, as a full plate and teacup floated toward her.

"Where do you want these?" Ron asked.

"Right here, at the counter, thanks," Hermione said, pulling up one of the tall, pub-style stools she used since her flat didn't have a separate dining area. The dishes settled in front of her and Ron went back to preparing his own plate. The food looked delicious. "You cook?"

"Don't sound so surprised," Ron said as he lowered all the utensils and made sure the stove burners were off. He brought his plate to the counter and stood across from her. "You don't grow up in Molly Weasley's house and not learn how to cook."

"I'm impressed," Hermione said after swallowing a mouthful. "This is really good."

Ron was on his third helping when Hermione rose to bring her dishes to the sink. She winced at her stiff neck.

"What's wrong? Didn't you sleep well?"

"Almost too well, I think. I barely even moved all night and now my muscles are paying the price."

He wiped his mouth with a napkin and put his plate and fork down.

"What hurts?" he said, taking out his wand.

"Right here and here," she said, gesturing to her neck and shoulder. "It's fine, I can —"

Before she could finish her sentence, Ron was dragging his wand lightly down her sore spots and mumbling a spell that she could barely hear. She felt him rest his hand on her shoulder and give it a light squeeze. Suddenly, the knots in her muscles released and the pain disappeared. He kept his hand on her for a few extra moments before pulling it away.

"How did you do that?" She wiggled her shoulder and tipped her head from side to side. "What spell was that?"

"I learned it in Quidditch," he said. "Someone was always hurt or sore so we couldn't keep running to Madame Pomfrey. Hey, is there a spell that I know and you don't? Well, well, look who's top of the class now." He twirled his wand before putting it back in his pocket, and picked up his teacup.

"Can you teach it to me?"

"I will, but it's sort of a mashup of a few different spells — it'll take some time, and I'm still hungry."

"In that case, I'm going to go wash up and change," Hermione harrumphed.

"Do you have plans today?" Ron called after her.

She leaned out of the bathroom. "No, not really. Just errands."

"All right then, let's do something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, think on it while I wash the dishes."

When Hermione returned from her bedroom with brushed hair and fresh clothes, she had an idea for how they could spend their day.

"Let's fly."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"I'm rubbish at it, but you all love it so much. I want to know what all the fuss is about. So maybe if I fly with you…?"

A big grin broke across his face.

"Yeah, that'll be fun. Let's do it. No schedule, nowhere to be, we'll just go."

She laughed.

"We need to stop by Grimmauld Place anyway," he continued, "so I can clean up, and we can get my broom too — and maybe some food, because after that breakfast, all you have in your fridge is half-empty takeout containers."

After some light grousing from Ron about why Hermione would live in a Muggle building with no floo, they headed out for Harry and Ron's home. When they arrived, they found Harry in the kitchen, still in his pajamas. Hermione sat with him while Ron went up to change.

"Do you need to warn Ginny that her brother is wandering about?" Hermione teased.

"She's still asleep," Harry said with a smile, sipping from his teacup. "Let's talk about where you were last night."

"Ron came home with me last night but we just passed out on the couch," she said. "Don't get ideas."

Harry sighed. "This isn't something I pulled out of my imagination"

"Why? Has he said anything? Have you said anything to him?"

"No, but I can. Do you want me to talk to him for you?"

" _No!_ " Hermione almost shouted. "No, don't do that. It's childish."

"Then _do_ something about it, for Merlin's sake," Harry said. "You _know_ how you feel about each other."

"Do I though?"

"Deep down, yes, you do," Harry said. "Come on — you started Dumbledore's Army! You're braver than this."

"Fighting is more cut and dry," she said with a wry smile. "It's easy to know what to do."

Ron bounded into the room. "Hand over the beaded bag so I can put some food in before we go."

He and Harry chatted about their run-in with the pixies the night before and Hermione wandered into the hallway. Maybe Harry was right and this was simpler than she was making it. Ron hadn't invited Harry to join them, so perhaps he was looking to be alone with her… but maybe she was reading too much into it. Sometimes she thought it would be nice to just have a textbook to tell her what to do.

A creak in the floor made her look up and see Ginny coming down the stairs. Her ginger mane was a glorious mess, and she was wearing nothing but black panties and one of Harry's shirts, unbuttoned in the front. Hermione cleared her throat and Ginny looked up in surprise, pulling the shirt closed.

Hermione cocked her head toward the kitchen.

"Ron?" Ginny mouthed. Hermione nodded, and her friend raced back up the stairs on tiptoe. Ron knew they were together most nights, but he didn't need to see his sister half-naked. He'd be thrilled if they got married though — and Hermione was pretty sure they would someday.

Ron appeared at her side and handed her the beaded bag, presumably chock full of food. "Broom's out back."

Grimmauld Place had a wee backyard, which was full of plants that were either dead or overgrown. Kreacher had ignored it for decades, and Ron and Harry certainly weren't devoting any time to gardening. They kicked at the foliage to make space and got astride the broom. Hermione wrapped her arms around Ron's middle.

"You'll have to hold on tighter than that if you want to stay on," he said, making Hermione wonder if this flying idea had been a bad one. He cast a quick _Disillusionment_ charm to make sure Muggles wouldn't spot them flying over the city.

The broom rose and Hermione felt her feet leave the ground. She closed her eyes tight and pressed her cheek against Ron's back.

"You better not have your eyes closed, Granger," Ron yelled over the sound of the wind in their ears. "If you want to know what the fuss is about flying, you need to see the view."

She opened her eyes and saw Grimmauld Place's roof below her.

"Oh!" she gasped.

"You're safe," Ron said. "I won't let anything happen to you. Just hang on and try to enjoy the ride, but if it's too much, just tap me on the shoulder."

Hermione wasn't sure she'd be able to let go with one hand and do that, so she tried to modulate her breathing and calm down. She wasn't afraid of much, and she didn't want to be afraid of this.


	12. Chapter 12

They sailed over London, with Ron circling around the London Eye, Big Ben, and some of the other sights. Hermione had seen all of them from ground level but this was a new experience. She found herself relaxing — as long as she didn't look straight down.

After they saw much of the city, Ron steered them out toward the countryside. Hermione watched as the houses below grew further and further apart, until they were almost completely replaced by expanses of grass and colorful wildflowers. They were beautiful to see, but after flying for so long, Hermione was starting to get tired. As if reading her mind, Ron looked over his shoulder.

"Should we go down? I'm starting to get hungry," he yelled. Hermione let go only long enough to give him a thumb's up.

On the ground, in a grassy field far from any roads that she could see, Hermione tried to smooth down her windblown hair while Ron pulled a blanket and numerous food containers out of the beaded bag. When he wasn't paying attention, she used her wand to give her hair a quick swipe and get it under control.

Ron sprawled out on the blanket and Hermione sat down too.

"So?" he said, popping open a container of grapes.

"So what?"

"So have I given you a whole new appreciation for flying? Are you making plans to join a weekend Quidditch team?"

She giggled. "I'm not quite there yet, but it was less terrifying than usual."

"That's a start," he chuckled, passing her one of the sandwiches he'd made. "I could tell you were still a little nervous. Every time I took a turn, you'd squeeze me between your knees." His eyes widened and he suddenly looked down at his food.

"Oh." Hermione blushed hotly, tipping her head down to hide her face.

They were quiet for a few moments. After her slight embarrassment simmered down, Hermione tilted her face up toward the sun and closed her eyes, listening to the breeze and the birds in the distance.

"Feeling better?" Ron asked. "Than last night, I mean."

Hermione turned to look at him. His hair shimmered in the sunlight. She really wanted to reach out and run her fingers through it, but she still wasn't sure if she was as brave as Harry said she should be.

"Of course. I don't know what came over me — that was so silly of me."

"No, it wasn't." He put down his sandwich and sat up. "You've been through a lot. You're allowed to break down once in a while."

"We all have," Hermione replied. "Not just me."

"Yeah, but we've all had our breakdown moments. Mine went on for months, as you may recall."

Hermione smiled faintly.

"Not you, though," he continued, sitting up to face her. "No, really. After you fell asleep last night, I was thinking about this. You've just been soldiering on through everything. Taking care of everyone. Me, Harry, Ginny, your parents — but no one's been taking care of _you_."

Her lower lip quivered but she stilled it and shrugged. "I didn't really need…"

"Maybe you didn't _need_ anyone to take care of you, but you should have had it." Ron fidgeted with the edge of a napkin. "That's why I wanted us to have this day out. To try and take care of you."

Hermione felt a swell in her chest, just like she had when they were in the Hogwarts kitchen before the battle. Ron had helped free the house elves purely because it was important to her. She knew in that moment that he loved her, and that realization again flooded through her.

And just as she had in that moment more than a year earlier, she turned off her overactive brain and acted on instinct, reaching for him and pressing her lips against his. A brief panic pricked at the corner of her mind, and she pulled back.

Ron was smiling. She grinned back, with equal parts happiness and relief.

He lightly cupped her cheek and she leaned into his touch. Next things she knew, his mouth was on hers again, more insistent than before, and she responded eagerly. Hermione threaded her fingers into his ginger hair. His tongue grazed her lips and she opened her mouth to him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her up to her knees, with her body against his. Startled, she swayed and knocked over a bottle of water. With one smooth motion, Hermione whipped out her wand, righted the bottle, and flipped the cap closed. Another flick of her wand dried up the spill.

"Sorry, you… surprised me a little," she said, blushing.

" _I_ surprised _you_?" Ron laughed.

"Well, I suppose that I surprised myself a bit," Hermione said, her cheeks still pink, "and I wasn't sure how you were going to react. It's been a long time since that night at your parents'… I-I-I mean, i-it's…" She stammered as she tried to change the direction of her sentence.

"What night do you mean?" Ron asked.

"Never mind, it's nothing."

"Hermione…"

She exhaled and sat down on the blanket.

"One night, before I left for Australia, you came home from the pub and we… kissed…" she said, now blushing furiously. "But the next morning…"

"Bloody hell!" Ron sat down hard and rested his forehead in his hand. "Merlin, I'm such a git. I was so pissed I actually forgot kissing _you_? After waiting all that time and —" He cut himself off.

Hermione put her arm over his shoulders.

"It's probably better that we didn't get… _involved_ right then," she said. "It might not have gone well. Neither of us was in a good place."

"I still feel like an arse for doing that to you."

"I wasn't going to tell you, but I got flustered just now and it slipped out."

He turned to look at her and their faces were just inches apart. "I'm glad you told me."

"You are?"

"Yeah," Ron said, "because now I can make it up to you." He slid his hand around the back of her neck and laid her back on the blanket. Hermione's breath sped up as she grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him on top of her, kissing him hungrily.

The rest of the day went on that way, with them alternating between snogging and snuggling — and snacking, in Ron's case. As the sunlight began to dim, Hermione had her hands under his shirt, running her fingers over his bare chest. Her legs were linked around his hips, pulling him to grind against her harder. He was pressing kisses along her jawline and caressing her breasts under her sweater, her bra having been unhooked and pushed aside a long time before.

If she'd thought about it earlier, Hermione wouldn't have even considered the idea of having sex out in the open, even with no one around, but when he tweaked her nipple lightly and she felt a tug between her legs, she began to reach for the zipper on his jeans.

But before she could, the sky suddenly darkened and they both looked up in alarm. Deep purple clouds were moving in and the wind had started to pick up.

"Not Death Eaters, thank Merlin, but we should probably get out of here," Ron said.

They scrambled to put their clothes back in order and Ron scooped their belongings into the beaded bag. Thunder rumbled in the distance as they hopped on the broom.

Ron looked over his shoulder and grinned. "We might get wet."

Hermione pointed her wand straight up, and an umbrella-shaped dome of magic streamed forth from its tip. "This might help."

"You'll be OK holding on with just one hand? A little rain's not going to hurt me."

She grinned back at him. "I'm not afraid."

They lifted off the ground and sped through the sky, not using the leisurely route they'd taken that morning. As they approached the outskirts of London, the beauty of the city lights made Hermione gasp aloud. A few drops of rain began to fall and Hermione squeezed Ron under the magical umbrella.

Within a few minutes though, the drizzle turned into a downpour, and the umbrella wasn't helping much. The rain blew sideways and Hermione held the umbrella further forward, over Ron's head, to make sure he could see where they were going.

She realized that they were getting closer to her building when he yelled over his shoulder. "Where can we land?"

"Just go to the front window!" Hermione called back. "Second floor!"

They sailed over her neighborhood and Hermione spotted her window, with its pale blue curtains. She pulled back the magical umbrella and pointed her wand at the window, flinging it open. Ron stopped the broom just for a moment, then shot them through the small opening. The broom dropped to Hermione's living room floor and they staggered to stay on the feet. The stormy wind blew the blue curtains and Hermione hurried to close the window.

She laughed and brushed the damp strands of hair off her face. "Now I think I understand the fuss over flying."

"I'd offer to help you learn how to fly better on your own, but I have to say, I like having you holding on to me," Ron said, moving closer to her. She went up on tiptoe to kiss him and she laced her fingers together with his.

"We should get out of these wet clothes, don't you think?" she whispered.

"Yeah…" he replied. But she saw a tinge of worry in his expression.

"What? Ron, what's wrong?"

"Uh, nothing." He ran his hand through his hair, a telltale sign that something was on his mind.

"Ugh, I'm sorry, I'm being too pushy," she said, taking a step back. "I shouldn't have assumed… do you want to wait? It's OK if you want to —"

"Wait?" Ron laughed incredulously. "'Mione, I've been in love with you since… gods, since I was old enough to know what that felt like, I reckon."

Hermione laughed and tears sprung to her eyes.

"I don't need to wait," Ron continued. "I've _been_ waiting for this for a long time. I'm just feeling… I don't know…"

Hermione thought back to a few hours earlier, when he'd responded so fervently to her kiss after she'd agonized all that time. She flashed back to all those times she'd watched him while he wasn't paying attention, how she'd daydream about innocently kissing him when they were younger, and about doing so much more than that when they got older. It barely seemed real that it was actually happening, that she was just outside her bedroom door with the boy she'd loved for so long.

"Overwhelmed?" she suggested.

"Yeah, that's a good word for it. Overwhelmed." He took both of her hands in his and kissed her fingers gently. "I, uh, I've thought about this, about being with you, a _lot_. Like, for _years_."

Hermione giggled. "I know what you mean."

"And I, um… I just needed you to know that this isn't just a snog for me. It's more than that. But if you don't feel the same way, I —"

"Ron, I —" Hermione rested her forehead on their clasped hands. "I love you too. I always have."

He put his hand under her chin and tilted her face up toward him. "Then we should get out of these wet clothes."

She led him into her bedroom and he started to take off his jacket.

"Wait, don't take that off yet," Hermione said, pointing her wand at him. She ignored his confused look as she said, " _Vestidio transfigurum_ " and transformed the brown zippered jacket into a black leather Auror's coat.

"My work —?" he began to ask, but she grabbed his lapels and kissed him desperately. He tangled his fingers in her curls and kissed her back, gentle with his hands but forceful with his mouth. Hermione couldn't wait any longer, so she pushed the leather coat off his shoulders.

"You put that on me just so you could take it off?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Hermione said, between kisses. "Exactly."

He smiled against her lips, realizing what she'd meant. She pulled up his shirt, still untucked from their picnic adventures earlier, and pushed it up over his head. Although she'd been touching his bare chest under his clothes all afternoon, she'd never seen him like this and she lingered to look him over — until he reached for the hem of her top and pulled it off her. He then reached behind her to unhook her bra, and she let it fall to the floor.

"You're beautiful," he said in an awed whisper.

Hermione had imagined this moment a lot of different ways over the years, but she'd always envisioned them slowly and romantically taking off each other's clothes. While it did start that way in reality, that changed quickly.

The feel of his warm skin under her fingers set her on fire, and as they kissed, she pulled at his clothes frantically, desperate to uncover more of him. When they were both undressed, he enveloped her in his arms, running his hands over her body as if he couldn't possibly touch her as much as he wanted to.

His cock was hot and hard against her hip, and Hermione grasped it, stroking as slowly as she could, given how aroused she was. Ron groaned as he deepened their kiss.

They made their way to her bed, and he climbed on top of her. She locked her legs around his hips and rocked against him, sighing as his length slid back and forth over the warm, wet folds of her cunt. It wasn't long before she needed more.

Hermione clenched her fingers in Ron's hair and brought his ear to her lips. "I need you inside me," she whispered hoarsely.

After hours of kissing and touching and wanting him, she was more than ready. He easily slipped into her.

"Gods, 'Mione," he sighed into her hair.

She threw her head back as the pleasure washed over her. She was having sex, with _Ron_. And it was _good_. So much better than her frequent fantasies. Her fingertips glided down the muscles of his back, feeling them move under his skin as he thrust into her.

Ron's arm slid underneath her, around her waist, and clutched her tight. With one fluid movement, he rolled them over so that she was on top, straddling him.

"Wow," she breathed.

"Is this OK?"

Hermione rolled her hips a few times, feeling his cock even deeper within her.

"Oh yes," she whispered.

She adjusted her position and found just the right rhythm… just the right spot… Ron cupped her breasts in his large hands and rolled her nipples under his thumbs. Hermione wanted the bliss to go on forever, but didn't think she could last much longer. The sensation that began deep in her core and radiated throughout her body intensified. It was almost as though her hips were moving on their own, faster and faster. She'd never felt so out of control, and she loved it.

"Oh gods, Ron, oh gods… ohgods ohgodohgod ohhhhh I'm…!" Her muscles vibrated with ecstasy as she came, harder and longer than she ever had before.

Ron's hands fell to her thighs, and he gripped them tight as his movements sped up. Even though Hermione was finished, the pressure of his thrusts between her legs felt wonderful. His eyes were shut and she watched his face as he got closer to orgasm, still a little amazed that she was here with him.

"Fuck, Hermione…" he moaned as he pushed hard into her one last time.

Hermione leaned forward to kiss him, softly this time. When she pulled back, his blue eyes were staring intently at her, and she laughed aloud.

"Should I be worried that you're laughing?" he asked, his smile showing that he wasn't really concerned.

Her legs didn't feel like they could hold her up anymore, so she climbed off him and flopped down at his side. He tucked his arm around her and she laid her head on his shoulder. Her hand rested on his chest, where she could feel his heart beating, still fast, but slowing back to normal.

"No, I'm still a little in disbelief. That we're finally here."

"Yeah," he said quietly, planting a kiss on her forehead.

They lay together in the silence for a few minutes, just listening to each other breathe. His fingers lightly stroked up and down her arm, and Hermione started to nod off even though it was still early.

"Let's get married."

"What?" Hermione's eyes flew open and she propped herself up on her elbow to look him in the eye.

"I mean it. We should get married," Ron said.

"You're mad."

"I don't mean _now_ ," he said with an impish grin. "But, y'know, someday. In a few years. Or whenever we decide to have kids."

" _Kids_ _?_! Ron, we only just… This is insane."

"OK, I know I'm getting ahead of myself." He pushed up on his elbow to face her. "But for as long as I can remember, when I thought about my future, the one consistent thing was that I always imagined you there with me."

He brushed a strand of hair away from her face and rested his hand on her cheek. "And then last year, when it looked like we might not _get_ a future, what worried me the most, what made me fight as hard as I did, was the idea that I might not get to actually see that future with you."

"Oh Ron…"

"I know that getting married now would be mental. But I just wanted to say outright that when we're ready, I want to marry you. I can't imagine any other life."

Hermione reached up and covered his hand with hers.

"You're still mad," she said, kissing his palm.

"But…?" he asked with a grin.

"Of course I'll marry you. _Someday_ _._ "

~ THE END ~


End file.
